by Vivian Pearl To get home I have to walk under the bridgeWhere the street lights don’t work The strangers I pass always have something for meThey flick their tongue over their teeth and coo like pigeons in the ragged winter trees I fear that my body will be pulled…
by Sambhu Ramachandran We know the person who peeled an onion for the first time expected some mystery to lurk behind layer upon eye-smarting layer and was terribly disappointed when the bulb revealed nothing. Now, we know the onion does not hide any secrets big enough to lead us naked down the street like Archimedes. We have…
by Sambhu Ramachandran I could never believe in a god rising up from the roiling waters of my identity crisis, my heart gripped around his bulging biceps like a ship saved just in time. But I put my faith in your cooking to clear away the long wisps of fog that curl behind…
by William James –for Manchester, NH [2] Sitting on a graffiti’d stone overlooking the city. Watching jets take off from MHT. Ruiner is in my headphones & hell is empty. There’s sermons to read, lectures to write, & finally a warmth from the sun. All the houses look the same from this height. You’d like it here. I’m out of breath from the climb, but at least I’m climbing. Landing gear stowed…
by william james -for Manchester, NH I drive to the grocery store to relieve my refrigerator of its crushing loneliness. I return empty-handed because I left my wallet on my desk. & Elm St. rages on, all gorgeous cacophony. O Manchester, you glittering rhinestone. O Manchester, you tacky plastic pearl. I love you for your refined kitsch. I love you…
by Gracie Jones You lean in— our noses almost touch as you fog the glass between us. Your features shift, melting into the mist. The familiar smile ripples, loosens until you become unrecognisable. With one finger you carve your mask into the haze: poking two eyes, a little nose, a wobbly grin. Then stare across, through what you’ve made a changed man.
by Shannon Brown They say bad things come in threes. Instead of waiting for what will happen next, We wonder how many threes there will be this year. That’s not a test of will towards the universe As much as a desperate plea for mercy. We wave the white flag, Wondering if our whimper will be heard. And…
by Jen Drociak Something happened in the spruce tree under the cloak of darkness Something happened in the spruce tree to which no human bore witness In the tree where only the northern mockingbirds nest In the tree where only predator and prey can attest Underneath the tree each week I’d wake to find the feather of a crow …
by Reyna Espinoza What will you tell your children when they are grown and ask who you were? Will you tell them the truth? Will you tell them you were cruel? Will you tell them you enforced the rules? “I did my duty,” you’ll say, as if duty were blameless, as if obedience absolved you, as if a…
by Reyna Espinoza I was born of sunrise and pesticides,of strawberries and struggles.I was raised with sunburnsand church on Sunday,where my knees memorizedthe wood of the prie-dieu,where prayers were counted, not answered,and hope stayed lowered,like a head that forgot how to rise. I was cared for by hands in the…